


Crimson

by JinglePinglePie



Series: Crimson [2]
Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies), X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men - All Media Types, X-Men Apocalypse - Fandom
Genre: Characters will be added as I go - Freeform, F/M, Making Out, pietro/oc is not the focus, sorry - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-06
Updated: 2016-10-31
Packaged: 2018-08-19 23:07:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8227910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JinglePinglePie/pseuds/JinglePinglePie
Summary: When Nat's best friend throws a party, she and their friends decide it would benefit Nat to play Seven Minutes in Heaven with one of the boys at the party. This boy just so happens to be blue.





	1. Chapter 1

Nat questioned her choice in friends. On one hand, they were her teammates and she trusted them to keep her safe- on the track (a very good thing seeing how aggressive roller derby could get). In everyday life, she had less faith and it diminished further after every shot she watched them take. Missy, her best friend and the captain of the Bitch Fit Betties, was currently dancing on the coffee table with three of their teammates to music blasting from her stereo stack.

Now, Nat wouldn’t be so disturbed if it weren’t for the fact that the oldest Betty was barely 19. She wasn’t a stick in the mud, though. She had a few sips here and there, chatted with other party-goers, but she just couldn’t get into drinking like they did. She blamed it on her mother. In fact, most of her problems could be traced back to her mother. Despite her sister getting custody of her four years ago and a pending restraining order, their mother was still trying to be in the picture. No, drinking just made her think about her problems more, even though she was sure that’s not how it’s supposed to work.

Nat was snapped out of her dark thoughts when Missy hollered her name from across the room. She saw her best friend hopping up and down on a now empty coffee table making grabbing motions in her direction. Nat shook her head but complied nevertheless and dodged clusters of dancers to get to her. When she finally reached the poor table, she stepped up on it and was engulfed in a hug by her drunk friend. It was a good thing she was already home because she reeked of alcohol. After a long moment, the hug was dropped so Missy could continue grooving. Nat swayed side-to-side, listening to the upbeat music and looking at the unfamiliar faces in the crowd. “Where’s the team?” Nat shouted over the noise. Missy grinned and wiggled her eyebrows, “They’re out finding you a boy to play Seven Minutes in Heaven with.”

At first, Nat thought she misheard her over the music, but after she questioned her and Missy repeated herself, Nat screeched, “What?! Why?!” Nat didn’t go around kissing boys, and she’d only ever had one boyfriend, so she had to wonder why they came up with this idea. Missy just smiled innocently and kept dancing, showing no guilt. “You need to relax,” Nat scoffed, “and I know booze doesn’t help, so I thought we could try something else.” “You’re kidding me.” “Nope! Oh hey, Amy snagged one!,” Missy pointed over Nat’s shoulder, but she ignored it and gave her a glare, “You didn’t think to ask me or anything?” Missy groaned dramatically and grabbed her friend by the shoulders, “Oh my god Nat, just get in there! I mean, if you really don’t want to you don’t have to, but c’mon!” “This is called peer pressure.”

Missy leaned back and cackled, an obvious sign of her drunkenness. “It’s a good peer pressure!” She shoved her friend off the coffee table and shouted at her to “move your ass!” Nat huffed and straightened her blouse. While pretending to look for Amy, Nat weighed her options: she could disappear into the crowd and avoid her friends, who made up only an eighth of the party population, or she could actually find Amy and meet a boy. Thinking back to her previous experience with boys, Nat cringed. Her relationship with her first boyfriend named David, hadn’t been the best, and he had often tried to pressure her into going farther than first base. Thankfully, some of her sister’s strong had rubbed off on her and she never gave in to more than heavy kissing and groping over clothes.

So she wasn’t super enthusiastic on that happening again, but on the other hand, she had really liked the kissing. It was the only reason she had kept her boyfriend for as long as she did. That, and it was her first relationship; she didn’t like failing, and that extended to her relationship. Anyway, she wondered what it would be like to kiss someone else. Would it be better? Or was David as good she could get? On the other hand, what if the boy didn’t want to kiss her? She didn’t think she was ugly, per se, but she was athletic and it showed in her arms and legs. She was short too, anyone above five foot six wouldn’t be very comfortable kissing her. Weighing her curiosity against her doubt, Nat decided to look for Amy.

It was fairly easy as she was the tallest member of the team and towered over most party-goers, boys included. When she reached the raven-haired girl, she was leaning against the wall, talking to a shorter boy with red sunglasses and neat brown hair. When Amy saw Nat, she sprung away from the wall, wrapped an arm around her shoulders, and started leading her to a nearby door. “Hey, Nat! Ready to play Seven Minutes in Heaven?” “I-” “Cool! So the guy’s already in there, his name’s Kurt, he’s a sweetie, and, as you’ll probably notice, he’s a mutant. Don’t let that deter you! I talked to him and his friend, and I think you’ll have a good time!” “Wh-” Amy swung the door open, “Have fun!”

Amy shoved Nat between the shoulder blades so she stumbled through the open door and into whoever was already in there. Thankfully, they kept a good grip on her and she didn’t fall into anything else. The door slammed shut behind her, and she noticed the room was lit by a bunch of glowsticks haphazardly thrown about. Remembering her position, Nat stood back and was finally able to see her fellow inmate.

Right away, she saw why Amy warned her about him being a mutant. The boy who caught her, Nat remembered Amy calling him Kurt, was about a foot taller than her and head-to-toe blue. In the dim pink light cast by the glowsticks, Nat could make out intricate designs on every inch of his face, which, she must admit was a _very_ nice face. He had gorgeous amber eyes that seemed to glow in the dark, full lips, and daunting cheekbones framed by straightened hair.

_You’re getting distracted._

_Isn’t that what I’m supposed to be doing?_

Faced with the handsome blue boy, Nat concluded that Missy’s observation was right; she needed to relax. So, without further thought and a burst of bravery, she asked him, “Can I kiss you?”

Kurt didn’t know what to say. Well, he knew what he wanted to say (yes) but he wasn’t sure how to say it, however, he would try. Unfortunately, it all tumbled out in a jumbled mess, and Kurt’s voice trembled, “Ja, aber ich nicht, I mean to say, I don’t know- I’ve never, I mean, ich, uh-” He just couldn’t spit it out. He saw the beautiful girl before him give him a strange look and almost teleported away. “You’ve never, what? Kissed anyone?” That’s it! “Ja- uh, nein, no. I’ve- no, I’ve never kissed anyone, uh, ever.” He wanted to smack his head, Dummkopf! He was really screwing this up, he knew it. When he felt something touch his arm, he looked down to see the girl had placed her small hand just above his elbow. He raised his gaze to meet her deep brown eyes and became simultaneously calm and absolutely panicked.

“Can I show you? I mean,” she tilted her head and Kurt’s eyes traveled down the slope of her neck, “I’m not an expert but..,” she shrugged and looked up at him through long lashes. Absent-mindedly, Kurt nodded. She stepped closer, and she hesitantly placed her arms around his neck. He wondered if she could hear his heartbeat like he could hers. In the quiet room, he could just make out the thready whooshing of blood through her arteries. He was soothed by the fact her heart was beating as fast, if not faster than his. She gently pulled him down closer to her level, and suddenly her mouth was on his, and he felt like he had been electrocuted.

The sensation buzzed up and down his body; he could feel his tail whip out behind him and faintly heard something fall. Her lips moved against his, and he supposed he should do the same. Hesitantly, he tried to copy what she was doing, but after a moment she pulled away. Before Kurt could apologize, she reached for his hand and pulled it up so they both could see it. “You almost got it, but not quite. I’m really not sure how to explain it, but- well, just watch.” She brought his hand closer to her face, taking a moment to examine its strange anatomy. Then, she leaned forward and lightly brushed her lips against the palm of his hand. He jerked it away, surprised at the sensation.

She gave him a questioning look as he offered his hand again with an embarrassed grin. After he nodded for her to go on, she placed a soft kiss against his palm. He took note as she moved her lips against the flesh and lightly sucked with each kiss. Focusing was not an easy task; the same sensation of electricity was now radiating from his hand, and Kurt was struggling to keep it still. He noticed another sensation stirring, this one low in his abdomen. Kurt was a little more familiar with this but ignored it for the time being so he could focus on the girl before him.

After a couple more kisses, she stopped and looked up at him, and Kurt wondered what she saw to make her smile like she did. She said something, but Kurt just couldn’t translate anything in that moment, the gears in his head gumming up, so he nodded. Whatever it was, whatever she wanted, yes. He was rewarded with being pulled into another kiss, and another. He felt her hand on his jaw, directing the tilt of his head as he kissed her back. Kurt felt warm all over, and when she gripped his shoulders he was sure that he was being scalded, but he didn’t care. His hands, which had been resting on her waist, tensed, and he relished in the feeling of the soft flesh on top of tense muscle under her blouse.

When the girl gave a short moan against his mouth, his eyes opened in surprise. She still had her eyes closed and was now pressed into him, so Kurt guessed that it was a good sign. Since there was such a height distance, though, she was curved back at an awkward angle, his arms being the only thing keeping her standing. So, in a quick time decision he hefted her up, and she automatically wrapped her legs around his waist. With a quick peek he spotted an end table the perfect height for her to sit on, so he set her down there; they never pausing in their kissing.

Kurt felt like he was being consumed, and he wondered if this was how kissing always felt, or if it was just the girl with her legs wrapped around him. They were now pressed together, and Kurt could feel every curve of her body. The sensation was driving him wild.

Then, Kurt was surprised when she drew away, but only for a moment before she kissed the corner of his mouth, then his cheek, then under his ear, and all the way down to the crook of his neck. Kurt suddenly became scared he would die of a heart attack. She began kissing and sucking on the soft flesh, and Kurt couldn’t stop a grunt of pleasure from escaping; he felt a soft brush of air against his neck and heard her giggle. It was a beautiful sound. He distractedly kneaded his fingers into her waist while she worked her magic. When he dropped his head to her shoulder, he breathed in deeply; Gott im Himmel, she smelled amazing. She wasn’t wearing any perfumes, so her natural scent was unimpeded. Without much thought, he tenderly kissed her neck. It was more of a peck, but when she tilted her head so he could have better access, he gave it a deeper kiss. There was a light coat of dried sweat that that gave her neck a salty, savory taste that Kurt never wanted to forget. Following her lead, he kissed and sucked her neck all in a slightly different place until he found a spot that made her pause in her own ministrations and sigh in pleasure; her hot breath ghosted over his skin. As he continued working on the one spot, her breathing became heavier and heavier.

While he was busy, the girl ran her hand up the other side of his neck, into his hair, and ran her nails over his scalp. Something akin to a whimper and a moan was muffled by her neck. Kurt was totally overwhelmed in that moment, from the bolts of electricity arcing up and down his body, to her smell and taste, Kurt wasn’t sure how much he could take. He didn’t even know what else he could do.

Unfortunately, he was saved from having to guess when there was a sharp knock on the door and Amy’s voice interrupted the moment, “Time’s up! I’ll give you a minute to wrap up, but be quick.” They pulled apart and her finger snagged a tangle in his hair, “Oh! Sorry.!” Kurt just smiled at her before moving back so she could hop down. He saw her lips were swollen, and he felt a flush of pride at the fact that he did that. He also saw a glimpse of red at the base of her neck. Looking closer, he saw it was blood. Must having seen his dismay, she traced his gazed and felt her neck. When she looked at her hand and saw blood she scoffed. “Sheiße, I am so sorry. I have fangs, i-it’s part of my mutation-” he was interrupted when she held her hand up and gave him knowing grin, “Yeah, I felt them.” “Oh-”

“I HOPE YOU’RE DECENT!” The room was suddenly filled with light and the girl who had introduced herself as Amy and another, unfamiliar girl appeared in the doorframe. With a squeal, they pulled his girl- well, the girl he’d been kissing, out of the closet and were gone within the blink of an eye. Then, Scott peeked his head around the frame, “Hey Kurt. Have fun?” Kurt didn’t reply but watched Scott pointedly look down, “Yeah… I’ll give you a moment.” Kurt looked down to see what he meant. “Oh.”

\---

“When does the movie end?” Flor scoffed softly at her boyfriend Peter. They had been necking for most of the film, and they were both ready to get some privacy. Wanting to tease him, though, she asked him to wait until the movie was over. She claimed she wanted to see the end, but in reality, she couldn’t care less. She just liked to watch him fidget through the corner of her eye as she slowly ran her hand up and down his thigh. He sat with his legs far apart to give her more access, and she was thrilled to feel his bulge through his jeans whenever she got high enough. Glancing over, she saw he had completely stopped paying attention to the movie and his head was pressed into the back of the seat.

She drew her hand back and leaned over to kiss his neck, which was surely covered in hickeys by now. “Why? Don’t you want to see the end?” She taunted and laughed out loud when he gave her a pitiful look. After being shushed by one of the other movie-goers, she tenderly kissed his chin and whispered, “Fine. Let’s go.” Again, she chuckled when he leaped out of his seat and booked it towards the exit. She got up, grabbed their popcorn, and followed at a slower pace. After all, she had the keys.

He was already inside her yellow VW when she reached it in the parking lot. Checking in her fanny-pack, she huffed when she discovered her keys were missing. He must’ve used his mutation to grab them without her noticing. She was used to it by now, though. When she first met Peter, he had used his mutation, super speed, to scare off an unruly customer at the diner she worked at. What had initially been a ‘thank you’ hook up had turned into a four-month long relationship. Honestly, Flor couldn’t remember being happier.

After a small scuffle ending with Flor getting the keys and Peter clutching a sore arm, she drove them to her apartment. Her sister Nat was at a sleepover, so they had the place to themselves. They walked into the apartment complex’s elevator in tandem, Peter’s arms wrapped around her as he peppered her neck with kisses. When the elevator dinged and the doors opened, she screamed in delight when he picked her up and carried her down the hall. As soon as the front door shut behind them, he stripped to his underwear within a blink of an eye. She laughed as he stood feet apart in a superman pose wear nothing but his tighty-whities. Coyly, she walked past him while pulling her shirt over her head and chuckled at the accompanying, breathy ‘shit’. Looking over her shoulder, though, she saw not lust in Peter’s eyes, but worry.

“What? What’s wrong?” She moved to turn and face him, but he held her still so he could examine her. When he touched the rough skin of her back she sighed, “Oh. Is it acting up again?” Peter shook his head, “Are you sure that this is- what’s it called?” “Ichthyosis vulgaris.” “Yeah, that.” When they first got together, Nat had to explain that she had a genetic skin condition called ichthyosis vulgaris, something that ran in her father’s family and wasn’t contagious. The condition resulted in scale-like dried skin in certain areas of her body and, according to Peter’s observation, it was the worst on her back. She faintly felt her boyfriend picking at the skin and scolded him, “Peter, knock it off. You’ll just make it worse.” He ignored her and tutted, “Look at this.”

Flor turned around to see whatever he wanted to show her. Her eyes widened when she saw what look like a scale the size of the tip of her thumb lying in his palm. It was an iridescent red, and, when she picked it up, it had a polished yet organic, imperfect texture to it. “Is it… a scab? I don’t understand.” She looked up at Peter, who had a serious look on his face; it unnerved her. He glanced back to the scab- scale- whatever, then looked her in the eye, “Listen, Flo, I don’t want to upset you but… you know sometimes mutations can be physical, right?”

Throughout their relationship, Peter has been teaching her about facts about mutations and the lives some mutants lived because of theirs. So, yes, she did know that, but she still was taken aback. Was he implying what she thought he was? That she was a mutant? She shook her head, “No, Peter, I’ve been to doctors. So has my sister. They’ve diagnosed it as IV. My mother never mentioned anything about our dad being a mutant either.” She looked away and tried stepping back, but was held in place by Peter holding her elbows, which also had a scaly texture. “Mutations get misdiagnosed all the time. They told my mom I had ADHD when my mutation was starting to surface, and your mom is...” He made a face, and she had to nod. He pulled her closer, “Listen, maybe it’s nothing, maybe I’m wrong. But maybe I’m not.” He cupped her face and forced her to look him in the eye, “Come to the Institute with Nat. Get some blood drawn so they can check for the x-gene. If it comes back negative, you won’t have to worry about it. If it’s positive, you can be prepared for the future.”

Flor looked up at her boyfriend. The room was still dark, as neither of them had bothered to turn on a light, so the clearest thing she could see was her lover’s face. His silver hair caught what little light there was and shone it back, making it look like his hair was made of moonlight. After a moment of consideration, she pouted, “When did you start making sense?” The comment earned her a pinch on the ass and she yelped. She pinched him back, and they did that back and forth until she ending it with twisting his nipple. Dramatically, he cried out, clutched it as one would a gushing wound, and fell to the ground knees first, then onto his back. Giggling, Flor lowered herself onto the floor next to him, and they laid there, pressed together for an uncertain amount of time, whispering.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some italics got edited out, so if something seems strange, that may be why.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ha sorry. I said this was done more than a week ago, and while that is true, I am also very bad.

Nat woke up with an uncomfortable wetness between her thighs. Considering the dream she just had, she wasn't surprised. She lay in bed for a moment, trying to hold onto the tendrils of her fading dream. It had seemed so vivid, but the more she thought about it, the more it faded. She knew it involved Kurt, though. Her face and neck heated up as fleeting memories of the raunchy scenarios she had dreamed of resurfaced.

When Amy and Missy yanked her out of the closet and away from Kurt, she had to admit her reaction was to fight back. After a brief struggle, she relaxed and allowed her friends to drag her upstairs to Missy's room. There waiting was rest the Bitch Fit Betties, making up seven girls in total. There, she recalled her encounter to her eagerly listening teammates, something she ultimately regretted. She since decided to keep the details to herself.

Anyway, after the act, Nat felt like a fool. He was obviously lying when he said when he said he'd never kissed anyone before. No one got it _that_ right the first time; no one. She had completely fallen for his nervous act too. Nevertheless, she made herself shrug it off. She'd never see him again, so why worry?

Sitting up, she saw Missy was still dead asleep and her limbs were thrown all over the place. She took advantage of the moment, went over to her overnight bag, swapped panties, and, when she thought about it, pants too. Then, she slipped out of the room and carefully closed the door behind her.

Walking through the living room Nat noticed the maids had tidied up from last night, making it as though the party never happened. Nat wasn't too puzzled, though; Missy was insanely close with her parent's employees somehow, so she didn't worry about being ratted out. In the kitchen, Madame Gosse was baking what smelled like tarts. Nat greeted the familiar nanny. "Bonjour ma bichette. As-tu bien dormi?" Madame asked her tenderly. Nat gave her a sleepy nod and slid into a seat at the kitchen island. Then, Madame placed the tea towel she held on the counter and glided over. Caressing her face, Madame squinted at Nat. "What is this?" she asked in a light French accent.

Nat raised her eyebrows, "What?" Madame pointed to her neck and Nat felt her face burn and choked out, "It's nothing." The older woman tutted and shook her head. She walked to the other side the island to get a better look at Nat's neck. "Do not think I am stupid ma bichette. That is a love bite!" The sleepy teen felt her neck and realized that the actual bite Kurt had left her was completely gone. _Strange_ , she thought. "It's nothing, really. Missy got me to play Seven Minutes in Heaven at the party last night. All I did was kiss, though; first-base stuff at most."

Madame chuckled, "And? How was it? Who was the lucky man?" Nat groaned and dropped her head onto the kitchen island, "Do I have to? Missy and the girls grilled me last night."

"Ah, so I should ask one of _them_ then?"

"..." Nat sat back up to glare at the smug woman. "His name's Kurt and he's a mutant, that's all I know." Despite this short description, Nat saw she had latched on. It was time for evasive action.

"Was he handsome?"

 _Extraordinarily_ "As far as I could tell. It was dark."

"Was he a good kisser at least?"

 _Amazing_ "He was alright. It was his first time."

"You really aren't going to indulge me, are you?"

"Nope."

Madame flicked the younger girl's arm before haughtily walking away to watch the tarts bake. Honestly, Nat couldn't stop thinking about last night. She had never experienced anything like what happened between her and the strange boy named Kurt. Even though she was pretty sure he lied about his experience, the actual kissing was honestly ace. She'd never felt so... aroused by a guy. Everything about him, his height, his figure, his smell, his passion; Nat shivered thinking about it.

She felt unraveled after that second kiss. From the first nip of his fangs on her lips to his deliciously muscular arms as he held her close, and to the erection that pressed against her when he had picked her up, still made her feel hot the morning after. All of this, and she probably would never meet him again. He was probably from out of town, for Nat had never seen him before the party. The thought left an uncomfortable feeling in her stomach.

Then again, the town she lived in was fairly close to the famous, or infamous depending on who you ask, Xavier's Insitute for Gifted Youngsters.

Nat was startled out of her thoughts by Missy bumbling into the kitchen. Turning in her seat, she watched with amusement as her best friend cried out before collapsing to the cold, tile floor. Madame, who had surprisingly been minding her own business, scolded the curly-haired girl, "That's what you get. You drink excess, you are in pain excess." She turned to Nat, "That's a saying right?" "I don't think so." She propped her hands on her hips, "Well, it is now." Missy weakly raised her head to grin at her nanny but said nothing as she laid her face back on the kitchen floor.

The oven dinged and Madame bustled over to snatch the pastries from the heat. Placing two knitted coasters down for her, Nat eagerly watched as Madame set down two delicious looking tarts filled with strawberries, blueberries, kiwis, and- her favorite- raspberries. Missy found her way into the seat next to her, and they waited as Madame topped their tarts with powdered sugar and homemade whipped cream. Then, she placed forks next to their plates, and cloth napkins in their laps. "Merci Madame!" They chimed in unison before tucking into their breakfast- Nat glanced at the ornate clock on the wall- or rather, their _brunch_.

After they were finished and Madame had taken the empty tins away, Missy turned to Nat with a goofy grin, "Lemme see that bite again." Smiling, Nat swiveled around so her friend could get a better look her neck, "The bite's gone actually, just the hickey's there. It must've looked worse than it really was." Missy scoffed in disbelief, "No way! You were really chewed up. There's no way it could've healed that fast...." As she peered at the mark, though, Missy could find no trace of the bite that had been there the night before. "Way bizarre..."

"What are we going to do today?" Nat both wanted to change the subject and was genuinely curious. It worked, and she watched as Missy thought of ideas, tilting her head side to side. Finally, Missy shrugged and said, "Shopping? I'll pay." "That's sounds like a _wonderful_ idea."

\---

Kurt sighed. One of the things he had expected when he came to America was a summer break. While he had received year-round homeschooling back in Germany, he knew the schools there were year-round as well. So, the idea of two months of no school was quite appealing. Unfortunately, the Professor subscribed to a year-round model for the Institute as well. On the other hand, this meant they got a week off of every month.

So, despite it being late May, Kurt sat in math class on a Sunday. The teacher talked on and on, but Kurt's head was in the clouds. He was glad Jean wasn't in this class, lest she be bombarded by the lewd images flashing through his mind. Kurt had been kept up late into the night by his imagination, and it had left him too tired to think of anything except for _more_ idle thoughts about the girl from last night. Scott said he owed Kurt a favor for sneaking him out of the Institute, but as far as Kurt was concerned they were even.

Originally, Kurt was against the idea of using his mutation to teleport them outside of the school grounds, but Scott had practically begged and Kurt couldn't say no to his best friend. So, at just past eight o'clock at night, Kurt teleported them just outside the gates of the Institute where they were picked up by Amy, whom Scott had met at the mall last month on their week off. She drove them to the next town over where the party was being held in an impressive mansion. They stood around talking and sipping on the booze available for a while until a girl ran up to Amy saying something about seven minutes in heaven.

That's when Scott volunteered him and, after a quick look over by Amy, he was ushered into a closet that had been dimly lit with pink glowsticks. Before he was shut in, though, Scott took pity on him and gave a brief explanation of what the game was: touch as many bases as possible in under seven minutes. At first, Kurt wondered what bases had to do with being locked in a closet. Then, he remembered what Scott had once explained to him; baseball terms were euphemisms for- Kurt flushed- _sex_. Beyond that, Kurt couldn't remember specifics but the panic had already set in. The only teaching he had about _that_ was the bare basics: unless it's your wife, wear a condom.

So he waited in the closet with anxiety gnawing his insides. What if she expected him to know what to do? _Scheiße_ , he's never even _kissed_ a girl before. What if she refused to touch him because of the way he looked?Kurt had dismissed the thought- that would be a whole other can of worms. Did his breath stink? Was his deodorant working?

Ultimately, the worry amounted to nothing, as no more than heavy kissing had occurred. Not that Kurt was complaining at _all_. It had felt so natural, so _right_. He let out a longing sigh.

When the bell rang, Kurt teleported to the cafeteria, got his lunch, and started to eat quietly while his friends avidly asked Scott about the party. He mostly tuned them out- until he heard his name. "Kurt?" He looked up to see Jubilee looking at him giddily, "Is it true? Did you get a fricking hickey? Lemme see!" Kurt shot Scott, whom he naturally divulged all details to, a quick glare before pulling aside the collar of his red jacket so Jubilee and Jean- who was watching with quiet amusement- could see the deep violet love bite on his neck. "Yar! And you didn't even want to go to the party," Jubilee teased. She took a bite of her apple as she snickered to herself. Jean picked at her lunch with a fork before asking the golden question, "Are you going to see her again?"

Kurt hadn't thought of that. Would he? He didn't know if she'd even _want_ to see him again. Kurt shook his head, "Probably not. I don't know her name or," he sighed, " _anything_ about her." Kurt rested his cheek in his hand and traced the grain of the wooden lunch table. Scott cleared his throat. Looking up, Kurt saw Scott inspecting his nails. When Scott saw he was watching, he gave him a smarmy grin, "I may be able to help with that." Against his wishes, Kurt's ears perked up. "Oh? How?"

Scott leaned back in his chair with his arms crossed behind his head. When Jean made a scene of choking at the apparent smell, Scott swatted her and scowled before leaning on the table instead. "You remember Amy?" Scott asked. Kurt nodded, "Of course." She, Scott, and he had spent most of the night together, hazy as most of it was. Scott prodded the table, " _Well_ , while you were _busy_ , we were talking and Amy told me a bit about Nathalie a.k.a. the girl you swapped spit with." Kurt's eyebrows raised and the corners of his mouth lifted. Nathalie, what a wonderful name. When Scott didn't continue, Kurt glared at him. " _Well?_ " he pressed.

Scott was enjoying his distress too much, though. "I- uh, I can't quite remember. Last night was pretty hazy for me," Scott said nonchalantly as he massaged a fake headache. Jubilee jabbed him in the side. "C'mon Scott, don't be a bogart," Jubilee taunted. Flinching away, Scott conceded, "Alright, alright. No sense of humor I see." "Scott," Jean admonished, "speak kindly of yourself." Pushing his red glasses higher onto his nose, he simply retorted, "Up. Yours." Jean's jaw dropped before laughing into her hand.

Scott sighed dramatically, "Anyway! From what Amy told me, I know her full name is Nathalie Bouchard but everyone calls her Nat, she has an older sister named Florianne that she lives with. She's a part of the same roller derby team as Amy, and they're called the Bitch Fit Betties. Nat's nickname is- if I'm remembering correctly- is Bomb Jovi."

"Wait, wait- what is roller derby?" Kurt had never heard of it, but from Jean and Jubilee's reaction, it was something to take interest in. "Roller derby's great! It's a sport where you go around a track, trying to shove past players from the other team, but you're all on roller skates, hence the name," Jubilee explained enthusiastically. Scott shook his finger at her, "Jubilee's leaving out the best part! If you're lucky, the uniform they use has the shortest shorts you've ever seen." Kurt spluttered, "You're pulling my foot!"

"It's leg," Scott corrected, "and no, I'm not. C'mon Kurt, I would never lead you astray," he goaded. Kurt didn't reply, though. His imagination was suddenly too busy conjuring images of Nat in very, very short shorts. Jean, who was focusing on blocking Kurt's thoughts, pursed her lips into a grin, "I think he's broken." Kurt faintly felt something touch his hand but it went away quickly enough so he ignored it.

Finally, he snapped out of his stupor when the bell rang. Looking around, he noticed that someone had taken his tray to the trash. Quietly thanking Jean, who had picked up his backpack for him, Kurt waved goodbye to his friends before teleporting to his next class. "We have the same class," Scott complained. He looked at his remaining friends, "What're we gonna do about him?" Jean shrugged, "You're the one who convinced him to go to the party. This sounds like your problem." She patted his shoulder as she walked past. Jubilee copied the action with a lot less sympathy before heading off to her own class. Scott stood there with crossed arms, thinking of a plan before being shooed out of the cafeteria by a teacher.

\---

By the time the girls reached Missy's powder blue Mazda, their arms were burning from the strain of all the bags they carried. They easily bought five hundred bucks of items between them, though Nat was sure they hadn't even made a tiny dent in Missy's allowance. Once they got all their stuff situated in the trunk, they collapsed in the front seats, which smelled like the hot upholstery. With a flick of a switch, the roof of the car folded back and a refreshing breeze drifted through; at the same time, the sun's unforgiving glare returned.

"I think I got in my weight-lifting for the day," Missy joked. Nat laughed tiredly while wiping a bead of sweat from her upper lip. She felt like she was disgusting, and she yearned for a shower. She voiced her concerns to her companion who leaned over to give her a sniff. "Oh yeah, let's get you home," she joked as she wrinkled her nose. Nat snorted a 'whatever' at her before fishing a spare pair of sunglasses out of the glove box and reclined in her seat.

The drive back to Nat's place was mostly silent, so she was able to take in the passing scenery. Commercial buildings suddenly stopped appearing and became impressive looking, well cared for apartments. Slowly, the quality of the buildings became worse and worse before finally, they reached her street and turned down it to find a pitiful apartment complex. The complex probably had a name, but someone ran over the sign a while ago, and Nat couldn't remember it at this point. They turned into a parking lot, and apartment blocks rose high on either side. She could see her bedroom window and the balcony leading to the family room a few floors up. The curtains were drawn, making Nat wonder if her sister was awake, or even home. Spotting her sister's pale yellow car, though, she assumed she must be at home, or perhaps with Peter.

Missy pulled into a parking spot and shifted into park before turning to Nat. "You got your key?" Nat patted her chest and felt the outline of the small piece of metal, "Yep." She noticed a group of people hanging around a car a few spots down over Missy's shoulder eyeing her car. Nat bit her lip before reluctant asking, "Hey Miss, would you mind hanging onto the stuff that I bought? I'll get it another time." Missy's curly hair bounced as she nodded without question. Nat grabbed her overnight bag, pushed the door open, and bumped it closed with her hip. Reluctantly waving goodbye and exchanging I-love-yous with her best friend, she opened the door to the apartment block and went to the elevator. They were the lucky ones that actually had one. Nat figured this block must've been one of the first to be built before it was decided to build cheaper.

When she reached her door, she could hear two people talking and laughing. _Peter's here_ , Nat thought. She knocked on the door to give them a chance to find clothes in case they were without, waited ten seconds until the scattering had mostly stopped, then unlocked the door to let herself in. Peter was hopping shirtless across the living room, struggling into a pair of jeans when she opened the door. "Hmm, babe. I think those are mine," Flor observed as she leaned against the opening of the hallway, mercilessly watched her boyfriend struggle to try and take the too tight jeans off. One would think a man with super speed could get dressed faster.

Looking down, Nat saw the proper jeans had been discarded near the door. She bent down to pick them up and went to toss them to Peter, but was surprised when Flor gasped, "What is that?!" Nat's eyes snapped to her sister who was gaping at her with wide eyes. It took Nat a moment to realize what she was reacting to, but eventually she put two and two together. _Here we go again_ , Nat thought with a roll of her eyes. She tossed Peter's jeans at him, who thanked her before swiftly pulling them on, zipping, and buttoning them. Nat looked back at her sister who was intently looking at her for an answer. She stared back in defiance for barely a second before giving up and groaning at the ceiling.

"It's a hickey, what more do you want? You've got dozens." Nat gestured to her sister's neck, which was in fact peppered with many love bites. "Yeah, but I've got a boyfriend. Unless you've been keeping me out of the know," Flor accused, standing with arms akimbo. Peter came over to stand behind Flor and sarcastically added, "Yeah Nat, you can't just _not_ tell us about your personal life."

Nat looked closely at him. "Is your nipple bruised?"

"Yeah, Flo-"

"Nope!" Flor interrupted, "No going off topic, tell me who, what, when, where, why, and how."

Nat wrinkled her nose, "How?" Peter nodded, "Yes, the how is very important."

Still reticent, Nat merely told them she mashed with a guy at Missy's party at her behest. The couple looked at each other, and Nat watched as Peter silently tried to discourage Missy from meddling. Convinced but unsatisfied, Missy flicked his bruised nipple. Gasping, Peter walked away with an over the top offended look. Flor shook her head with a slight grin. Then, the expression dropped, and she pursed her lips, something she did when she had something to say. "So," she started hesitantly, "Peter and I were talking and-"

"Oh, shut up! You're getting married?" Nat interrupted, instantly excited. She adored Peter, even if she saw him in his underwear way more than she preferred.

Flor, though, looked startled, "What? No I- What? That's not-" she let out a breathy laugh, "No," she sighed and pursed her lips again, "Nat, Peter got a look at my back, at the IV, and he really thinks we should get tested for the x-gene." The last part of the phrase tumbled out almost too fast to understand, but there it was. Nat was taken aback; what did a skin condition have to do with mutants, she wondered aloud.

That was when Peter came back out with a shirt on. Pushing his hair out of his face, he answered, "Because doctors are shit and don't know how to look for physical mutations. Some people go forever without realizing they're a mutant because some doctor told them they had a 'condition'." Nat shook her head and pressed her eyebrows together. "You think we're mutants? Well, so what if we are? What does it matter? It's not noticeable, so why should we bother?"

Flor crossed her arms, "Come on Nathalie, don't be a dickweed. What about when you have kids? You should know if you'll be passing that down. It's so you can be prepared, and it's better knowing sooner than later." Nat rolled her eyes, but knew she was a push over, "Fine, I guess. When are we gonna go then?" Dropping an arm, Flor scratched her head, "I dunno, I need to call. Hey, sweetie, you got the phone number for Xavier's?" Peter, who was now standing by the door behind Nat, gave her an indignant look before opening the door and disappearing with a gust of wind. Flor threw her hands up in amused exasperation, "Of course! _Obviously,_ it's easier to just run over and ask." Walking over to the smaller of their two sofas, she slumped into the cushions.

Nat shrugged at her before walking to her room. Opening the door, she threw her overnight bag onto the bed, which was pushed into the corner. She slammed the door shut and took off her mall clothes. Then, she changed into derby shorts and an oversized, yellow Memphis Milano shirt. She heard Peter return and shut the front door, but she ignored it and set out to empty her bag. When she finished what was mostly throwing dirty clothes in her hamper, Nat dropped into her bed, curled up over the covers, and traced a familiar crack in her wall. As she was picking at the dry wall, she noticed something different about her hand. Looking closer, she saw her knuckles were covered in tiny interlocking scales. These, though, were different than the scales elsewhere on her body. Feeling them, she noticed they were a faint red, smooth, and they were organized, compared to the ugly, brown, lumpy growths that usually appeared. _Well, then_ , she thought.


	3. Chapter 3

When Scott had asked Kurt to teleport them out of the Institute, he thought it was a solid plan. They’d avoid any watchful teachers, they could avoid the cameras that he knew only looked inside the property, and, he had hoped, they’d be out of the range of the Professor’s focus. Unfortunately, Scott severely underestimated his teacher. So now, he sat with his partner in crime on the steps of the Institute, waiting for the head custodian, Mr. Benjamin, to arrive. According to the Professor, they were to assist him in whatever he decided for their entire week off. Scott thought this was a bit harsh, but he didn't feel like getting into deeper trouble. At least it was just a week. He knew of others who had to spend every week off in detention, and some who had even been expelled. Those cases, however, were usually very extreme. The school tried to retain their students as much as possible.

So, even though the week after the party the two were on their toes, just waiting for the ball to drop, their punishment didn't come until a week later. _To make us let our guard down_ , Scott thought with a scowl. It was before the crack of dawn that they were woken by the Professor telepathically asking them to come to his office. It was there they finally got their detention and a fully armed guilt trip. 'Severely disappointed' and 'expected better' were a couple of the phrases used by their mentor.

So on the stairs they sat, waiting for Mr. Benjamin on the cool stone steps of their school and home. It was still dark, as the sun had not fully risen, and everybody and everything was asleep, so the only sound was of the two boys breathing. Kurt could even faintly hear his companion’s heartbeat.

This made Kurt think of his time with Nat and the sound of her pounding heartbeat against the noise of the party.

Suddenly, the sound of a motor came from beyond the school gate, which Kurt heard open with his sharp hearing. _Must be Mr. Benjamin_ , he figured. Sure enough, the two watched as the gate all the way down at the end of the driveway opened and a blue Ford rolled through, its motor chugging away. As it came closer, one could make out a ladder leaning forward over the cabin of the truck. Kurt squinted and held a hand up to shield himself from its headlights, and he saw Scott do the same from the corner of his eye. Finally, it pulled up into the circle drive. The car lurched as its driver put on the parking brake and the engine finally quieted. A muscular man with a rather luscious mullet stepped out of the car, reached into the bed of his truck, pulled out two paint cans, and turned to the two on the steps. “I hope you boys like to paint.”

 --

A whole week of delayed dread hit her all at once Saturday night.

After Peter had zipped over to Xavier’s Institute and returned, he sat down with her on the large couch. "Is Nat still in her room?" He asked, as he kicked his sneakers off and tossed them near the front door. Flor nodded, but then shrugged, "Yeah. I figured I could let her think for a bit. So, what's the dealio?" She leaned her elbow on the top of the couch, and her head on the heel of her hand. Peter sprawled himself across the couch and, consequently, her. "Yeah, Prof said he can fit you in next Sunday."

"That long?"

"Well, they prefer doing it at the end of the month, because that's when the kids are out and the guy doing the tests doesn't have juggle duties." Peter scoffed, "At least, that's what Prof says. I don't think Hank- he's like the school doctor- would really notice. That guy already has a full plate, what's some more mashed potatoes?"

Flor shook her head, "Well, first off, that's a bad analogy. Who _wouldn't_ want more mashed potatoes?" Kissing his teeth, Peter chuckled, "Shit, you're right." Flor laughed and crawled over to lay across his chest, arm falling to either side of him. She closed her eyes and listened the sound of his breathing. "And?" She murmured. There was something else, something he hadn't told her. He sighed and she rose and fell with his breath, "It costs, like, $2000." "Shit." She cursed aloud, and he held her closer to him. "It only costs so much because no insurance company will cover it." He explained bitterly. 

Her fingers clenched his t-shirt, and she felt him place a comforting hand on the nape of her neck. “I wanna pay for it.” Flor, who swore she heard wrong, lifted her head to look at her boyfriend. He looked at her with a tenderness that put butterflies in her stomach. She opened and closed her mouth a couple times before finally choking out a shocked, “What?” He kept the same expression as he brought a hand to her cheek, stroking it with his thumb, “I want to pay for the test. I have a good amount of emergency money saved up, and I don’t want you to be left with an empty wallet in case something happens you or Nat. I’ve got my bases covered by the Professor, so I’ll be fine, but I want you to be OK too.” He waited for her to reply, but instead she buried her face into his chest. _I love you_ , she thought. “You’re too good to me," she said. Her voice was thickly muffled, but Peter heard nevertheless and chuckled. 

“Nothing’s too good for you, Flo,” and before Flor could say anything to that, Peter quickly added, “I made a pitstop on the way home.” Flor laughed into his shirt, the heat of her breath seeping into the cotton. She was still a bit shaken by his sentiment, so her voice quivered a bit as she asked, “Yeah? Where?” Peter shifted underneath her to pull something out of his back pocket. Flor lifted her head up so she could see; it was a pack of Fruit Stripe gum. “Where is not important, but the why. I have a lot more where this came from, and I’m gonna need you and Nat’s help to harvest the tattoos.” Then, he whispered, “I want _sleeves_.” 

Flor laughed as he shook the package at her, making him chuckle and clutch her tighter to him. Turning her head, Flor yelled out, “Nat! Come out here, we’re giving Peter tattoos!” Her little sister shuffled out of her room to find Flor and Peter having a laughing fit on the couch. After they calmed down, Peter impressed them with the depth of his jean pockets as he produced not five, not ten, not even fifteen packs of Fruit Stripe gum, but twenty. They spent the next half hour creating a grotesque ball of chewed gum and collecting the wrappers. They finished that fairly quickly compared to the tattooing process, which took the rest of the night, but when all was said and done, not only was Peter’s arms covered in colorful zebras, but they went across his collarbone and up his neck. Stepping back to admire their work, the sisters laughed along with Peter, who was lying shirtless on his back, red-faced from laughing at the foolishness of it all. 

All in all, a very fun night. That is until Flor noticed the scales on Nat’s hand. They weren’t obvious, only a shade redder than her natural skin tone, tiny, and delicate to the touch. Peter compared them to snakeskin, which neither of them appreciated. Flor noticed them after she had taken Nat’s hand to keep her from launching the giant wad of gum out the window. Nat claimed that she hadn’t noticed them before then, and seemed just as shocked as the rest of them. This discovery set the sense of dread in motion, but the very next day, she had to put it at the back of her mind as she had to go to work for the week. The bustling of Rusty’s, the diner she worked at, didn’t give her a moment to dwell, and the resulting exhaustion took any hope of mentally preparing for the upcoming Sunday. 

So she lay in her bed, listening as a car alarm blared from outside, sorting through her thoughts. The biggest one being: what happens if the test comes back positive? While she held no ill will towards mutants, she didn’t want to be one. She had witnessed how badly they could be treated by baselines, heard about the atrocities committed against them, and had seen the things written on their homes, threats against them and their children. She tried to stay updated, reading papers that Peter said gave fair representation and had the pleasure of kicking anti-mutant bigots out of Rusty’s, but other than that, she was helpless. 

A sudden knock on her bedroom door made her jump. Peter? No, he had to cover for a coworker tonight. “Nat? Is that you?” Flor sat up but was unable to see, so she reached for the flashlight she kept under her bed. While she was looking, she heard the door open so she started to panic. She finally found the thing and switched it on as she sat back up. What she saw made her clap her hand to her mouth make a sound akin to a cat being strangled. Standing next to her bed was Nat, lip quivering and silent tears rolling down her face which was- _oh god_ , Flor thought- covered in blood. 

Immediately, Flor jumped out of bed, pulled her baby sister out of her room, to the bathroom, and flicked the lights on. With the room illuminated, she saw the source of the blood: three deep gashes on her cheek, just below her right eye. The blood was seeping out at an alarming rate, making a burst of fear explode in Flor’s chest. “Oh fuck, oh fuck, uh, ok,” she tried getting a closer look at the gash, but the blood was coming out too thickly. Flor tried to calm down; she needed to stop the bleeding, and Nat was only getting paler. With shaking hands, Flor reached below the sink for the first aid kit she had gotten forever ago. She accidentally dropped it into the basin, but quickly reclaimed it, and snatched up the gauze inside. She peeled the package open and stuck the whole thing onto Nat’s face, which was a worryingly pale shade. Placing one hand to press against the back of her head, Flor held the gauze firmly in place. 

After about ten minutes, which consisted of Flor shaking from the rush of adrenaline, and Nat whimpering as she pressed her face into the gauze, Flor peeked under the pad. To her utter surprise, the gashes had all but disappeared. Dropping the gauze, she took Nat’s face into her hands, peering closely at the three red lines that were all that was left of the previously oozing wounds. The sisters met eyes, and Flor was met with another shock; Nat’s pupils had become thin, vertical slits. They had contracted so much, the pupil was about as wide as a strand of hair. “Oh, Nat…. What happened?” Flor followed her sister’s gaze when she looked down at her hands. They were covered in blood as well. Grabbing them by the wrists, careful to avoid the blood, she examined them further. “Oh my God….” On each hand, each finger ended in fearsome talons that looked like they could cut through skin like butter; remembering the gashes that had marred Nat’s face, Flor supposed they really could. 

Nat sniffled, “Flor, what’s wrong with me?” Tears welled in her eyes, but before they could fall, her sister wrapped her in a tight hug. Slowly, Nat let herself become undone in her arms, sobbing and snotting into Flor’s nightshirt. Flor eased them down to sit on the bathroom floor, trying to avoid the spattering of blood on the tiles. “Shh… honey, there’s nothing wrong with you. Everything’s going to be OK, you’ll see. We’ll be OK.” She continued to assure her sister, stroking her hair, and trying to calm her down. 

Eventually, the sobbing became whimpers and hiccups, but Flor never wavered in her grip. Nat, on the other hand, had kept her hands held carefully away from the both of them. Flor strung her fingers through her sister’s brown locks and whispered, “I will keep you safe, no matter what.” 

\---

Nat woke to a stiff back. Looking around, she saw she was on the floor of her living room, and Flor was still asleep on the couch. Her legs were tangled in the blanket, which hung from the bed. She must have rolled off. Sitting up, she felt something wrapped around her hands, and when she examined them, she saw what looked like two pairs of oven mitts duct taped onto each hand. When she flexed her fingers, it felt like she had acrylic nails on. Suddenly, she remembered last night.

The blood, the fear, and the crying. Watching blood spiral down the shower drain, unable to wash herself, lest she bleed out. Long, gruesome talons covered in thick, hot, sticky blood.

Nat felt like she was going to be sick. Leaping to her feet, she ran into the archway leading to the apartment’s kitchenette and dry heaved into the sink. And again, and she kept dry heaving until she could barely get in a breath. The retching sounds must’ve woken Flor, who had appeared behind her after her third bout of heaving. When she was finally done, Nat wiped the drool from her lips and stepped back from the sink. She could feel her sister watching her carefully as she tried to regain her breath. Eventually, Nat couldn’t handle the silence any longer and asked, “Do we have anything to eat?”

Flor bit her lip, “Maybe, I haven’t gone grocery shopping yet.” Turning around, she opened the fridge, which she had been leaning against, and poked around. They ended up sharing three eggs between them, along with some buttered toast. They must’ve woken quite early, because, by the time they were done eating, it was six o’clock. Peter, who usually stayed over on the weekends, showed up precisely five minutes later. He let himself in quietly in an attempt to not wake the sisters but paused when he saw it was in vain.

“What are you two doing up so early? You don’t need to be awake until, like, noon.”  He walked over to give Flor a peck on the cheek before sitting down and looking quizzically between the tired-looking girls.

Flor just placed a hand on his knee and asked, “Do you think we could go in earlier?”

\---

After repainting the trimmings near the front entrance to the Institute since dawn, Kurt longed for a shower. It was light out now, therefore much hotter, his shirt was doused in sweat, and his face and arms were streaked with white paint. Kurt scowled, he could handle danger room sessions fine but, somehow, painting made him much more miserable. Dropping his paintbrush back into the can, he peeled his dark gray shirt from his chest and wrinkled his nose in disgust. With one swift movement, he peeled it up and over his head, scoffing as he wrung it out and a stream of sweat was squeezed out.

Debating between covering himself up and wearing a sweat rag, he tucked the shirt into his back pocket. He picked up the paint can and walked from the side of the building to the front entrance and up the stairs. He blushed when a gaggle of girls dressed in work-out clothes tittered at the sight of his shirtless self. Nevertheless, he winked as they passed by before walking through the threshold and approaching Mr. Benjamin. The man had given himself the luxury of cleaning in the air-conditioned refuge of the front hall and was currently using a floor waxer on the marble tiles. Waving to get his attention, Kurt told him that he had finished. The older man scratched his chin in thought, “Ehh… what about the other one, Scott? He finished?” Kurt shrugged, he hadn't bothered checking. “Could you tell him he can stop? He can finish tomorrow.” He nodded at the custodian and turned to go find Scott, but not before stowing the paint can and brush away in the bed of Mr. Benjamin’s truck.

While he was leaning over the bed, he heard the sound of a car coming up the driveway. The ambiance of the nearby nature must’ve kept him from noticing the sound of the gate. He watched as an unfamiliar yellow VW bug pulled into the circle drive. Surmising that they must be newcomers, Kurt ‘ported himself over to where he believed Scott went; he didn’t want to scare them off.

He found Scott around the other side of the building, his job being to paint the eastern trimmings. Currently, though, Scott was laying under a shrub. Kurt had to feel a bit sorry for him; the morning sun was angled directly at the wall he was working on, with no hope of shade. Looking at the work he'd done, he was pleased to see that he was more than three quarters done. Kurt decided he’d help him finish the trimming tomorrow before starting whatever task Mr. Benjamin would give him.

Walking over to the shrub, Kurt bent down to grab Scott’s ankles and pulled him out from under the plant. Scott yelped and sat up blearily. When he saw it was just Kurt, he attempted to punch him in the leg. Naturally, he missed the agile mutant and went to stand up instead. Kurt told him of Mr. Benjamin’s decision, to which Scott was very grateful. Then, he looked his blue friend up and down and asked, “What happened to your shirt?” As they went to find a side entrance, Kurt retorted, “Same thing that happened to yours.” Scott looked down and grimaced at his shirt, which was just as soaked as Kurt’s had been. “Oh," Scott said as he examined his shirt before shrugging and walking off to the side entrance, “I’m gonna go take a shower then. You still coming to movie night tonight?”

Kurt tilted his head, “What movie was it again?” Scott stopped walking, scoffed, and furrowed his brow, “Dude, Star Wars marathon on HBO. We _just_ talked about this last night.” Had they? Kurt tried to remember the events of last night. Scott, Jubilee, Jean, and he were lounging in Jean’s room. The girl had been there longer than any of them and had been able to choose one of the larger rooms. He remembered them talking in the background, but his focus had been on… ah, he remembered now. He had been mentally working himself up to finding Nat or her sister Florianne in the phone book. How should he spell Bouchard? Or Florianne or Nathalie? What if it was spelled completely different than it sounded? What if he called the wrong person? What if he called the right person? What could he even say? ‘Hi, I don’t know if you remember me, but we made out for seven minutes in a closet a week ago, and you’re all I’ve been able to think of for the past seven days’?

Kurt shooed the recurring worries away and bashfully shrugged at Scott, “Sorry, I guess I was distracted.” Scott shook his head and mumbled, “What else is new?” He walked back to where Kurt stood, asking, “You’re still thinking about her, huh?” Looking guiltily at the ground, Kurt shook head ruefully, “I’m sorry, I- I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I know I haven’t been all there this week,” Kurt threw his hands out in frustration, “but I really, just, can’t help it. No matter how hard I try.”

Scott bit the inside of his cheek, “Is it her specifically?” Kurt tilted his head, “What do you mean?”

“Like, would you want to go out with some other girl? Or do you want her specifically?”

Kurt thought to himself for a scant minute before replying, “Her.” He had, in fact, attempted to give his attention to another girl. A pretty girl in his government class who he had flirted with openly before last Saturday. The week following, though, he just couldn’t get into the swing of flirting with her. It didn’t feel right anymore.

  
“Ok!” Scott clapped his hands together and rubbed them enthusiastically, “Let’s go get you a date!” He turned on his heel and marched off, leaving a shocked Kurt behind. “What? Scott, wait- Scott, what are you going to do?” He asked frantically as he followed his scheming friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, if you want, I also posted a one shot of Peter and Flor's first meeting. Fair warning, it's smut, so. Anyway, you can find by going to first part of the Crimson series.


End file.
